Merry Christmas

I realize my inner self is a wolf. A wolf that keeps running kilometers in the night, a wolf that is in love with a moon that it cannot touch.

Exhausted by running and howling, this wolf goes for those reachable dark full moons instead.

That may be the reason that connects me with mushrooms.

If Alice is reading, I wonder she would find these lines in her pictureless book, or she is now celebrating Christmas. So I have to add this line too:

"Merry Christmas!" to all my Alices.

Photographs

I love to look at photographs. I enjoy to look at the handsome me, him and her, and of course, my Alice and mushrooms.

A mirror is one of the photographs which I spend time on.

My mind is another form of them. Photographs can be retrieved at ease. I usually create my own stories: Alice always tells how many mushrooms she found in the morning, and how beautiful they are. Sitting side by side, I like to ask her to look into the gills of the mushrooms where she can unlock my years of dreams. A music box plays.

We are in one of the rabbit holes.

A world of Alices and mushrooms

I am lost in another piece of wonderland, and am reluctant to find my way back.

I thought it was the adrenaline effect of running a full marathon. It is actually the excitement brought by my gifted cute granddaughter.

Another Alice is born and to accompany me in many more visits to unknown rabbit holes.

Life is good in a world of Alices and mushrooms.